Mother' Christmas
by vvmadp
Summary: Elena sets out to decorate the boarding house for Christmas with... which brother?


**Title**: Mother's Christmas

**Rating:** PG  
**Summary:** Elena sets out to decorate the boarding house for Christmas with... which brother?  
**Prompt:** "Damon and Elena decorate the boarding house for Christmas."

**Disclaimer: **Not mine, but I kinda wish they were...  
**Author's Note:** I wrote this after Damon compelled Elena to forget he told her he loved her, and before Elena suddenly warmed back up to him. So... yeah. She's still feeling hostile. Because Damon killed Jeremy. Which, you know, makes sense. (Her hostility.)

So the super-awesome mods over at the damon_elena LJ comm ran this Secret Santa writing challenge a while back... The premise behind it was simple: You put in a prompt, you get a prompt in return, and then the mods would post your story for you and one day there would be a big reveal party for all of the Delana fanfic writers to share which stories they had written! I had been looking to get back into writing Delena after the now-horribly defunct Devices went sour (it's kind of a long story, but the short version is that the inspiration died a few chapters in and I over-plotted it and it was no fun to write AT ALL), and after the whole Damon-killing-Jeremy thing, so I thought this sounded like a great idea, because I was seriously lacking Delena inspiration. So I participated.

Now that the big reveal is over and the authors announced, I thought I would share my story here. :) So without further ado, I present...

**Written for**: **kah50**, who supplied the prompt!

"Elena, are you sure you've got it?"

"I'm fine, Stefan, really." Elena hoisted the cardboard box higher up in her arms to demonstrate her point and tried to stifle her giggle at his arm-full of bags and the box he carried—a weight no normal man would be able to support, but her vampire boyfriend had no problem accommodating.

His concerned look was replaced with a smile as he turned and faced front again, continuing up the stairs to the front door of the Salvatore boarding house. At the entrance, Elena hesitated, almost as if she were a vampire herself, unable to enter without the obligatory invitation.

And then she steeled her nerves and plunged forward. She had seen Damon dozens of times since she had called their friendship quits. This time would be no different. So what if she would be spending all afternoon in 'his' territory? It changed nothing. They still weren't friends, and she still wasn't going to pretend like anything had changed between them just because he had come with Stefan to save her life from those vampires who had kidnapped her.

Almost as soon as she stepped over the threshold and into the living room, she saw him, standing there with Stefan. He had an exasperated, snide, derogatory smirk on his face as he eyed the bags his brother set down.

And there was the other reason she didn't want to be around Damon… The overwhelming feeling of sorrow. The sense that despite everything Damon had done, she had somehow wronged him. It was a heartbreaking anguish, and it tore at her every time she saw him.

Damon's head turned, his gray eyes locking onto her. She felt her breath catch in her throat as their eyes met, and she had to force herself to stay still—to not bolt out of the house. There was so much that had happened between them… Too much. Too much. "Elena," he greeted, in mock enthusiasm, his voice almost dripping with sarcasm. "May I take it that decorating our lovely abode for the holidays was your suggestion?"

"No, Damon, it was mine," Stefan said, turning back to him. Damon swung on him instantly. Stefan's face was calm, but insistent. "I thought it would be a nice gathering for everyone."

"Everyone?" Damon repeated. Elena watched him step closer to Stefan, looming over his younger brother. "And who exactly are we inviting to this shindig at our humble domicile, little brother?"

"Well," Stefan began, facing Damon head-on. Elena felt her heart swell at the sight. "Caroline. Elena. Alaric. Jenna. Jeremy. Bonnie. Rose." He paused. "I think that's all, but I might add some more guests." He mock-brightened. "I know. You could invite your friend, Sheriff Forbes."

Elena watched Damon's eyes darken as his face twisted into a sneered smile at Stefan. "I'll take it into consideration. Right after I contemplate vervain-tipped bamboo shoots sliding under my fingernails."

"Sounds painful," Stefan advised. Elena tried not to smile when Stefan patted Damon on the chest as he walked past him, coming over to join her at the living room entrance. "Let me get that for you," he said, taking the box from her.

She smiled warmly at him, thanking him, even as he turned and set it in the middle with the other bags.

"Where did all this stuff come from, anyway?" Damon asked, tugging on the edge of one of the bags to peer inside. His face contorted in disgust as he pulled out a tiny mouse with a Santa Claus outfit and held it up for Elena and Stefan to see. "Stefan, tell me you didn't blow our bank account on this tacky crap."

Stefan made a face at him. "Elena's neighbors were just going to throw it out—so we got it." He shot her a look and she smiled back brightly.

"For free?" Damon supplied hopefully.

"If you don't like it, Damon, you don't have to stay for the party," Elena shot at him finally, irritated.

Damon was on her before she had barely finished the sentence. Stefan was there, too, just a foot away. Elena felt her heart in her throat as she found herself staring up into the dark gray eyes, only inches away from her own. She tried to exhale but found he occupied the space it would take her to do so, so she could only hold her breath and stare up at him, paralyzed. A mixture of anger, fear, and sorrow tormented her as she stared up into his familiar eyes.

"And miss the crazy shenanigans you kids are going to get into?" Damon asked finally, stepping away. "No, I think I'll stick around." He turned back and held out his hands. "After all, who else will be the entertainment?"

Elena didn't de-tense until he picked up his glass and tipped it at them, heading out of the room. And then she sagged, feeling all the weight leave her legs as she fell into Stefan's arms, clinging to him for strength.

She remained there for only a few minutes before his cell phone went off. Elena reluctantly pulled away, trying to straighten out her thoughts as she went to the bag and began rifling through it as Damon had. Her heart sank as she saw more of the decorations in the bags, as Damon had done. He hadn't just found a tacky mouse. The rest of the mouse family was in there—Mrs. Claus mouse, a few elf mice, a toy shop for them to stand in front of, a little house to live in… It fit her elderly neighbors perfectly, but, as she eyed the Salvatore house in dismay, she knew without a doubt that it would never go with the rest of the house. In fact, it wouldn't even just clash. It would just look terrible.

She looked into the other bags, hoping for something less showy, but instead found large snow globes and more exorbitantly large displays.

She sighed inwardly. They would make it work. They certainly weren't the best decorations in the world, but somehow, they would make it work. The Cohans had been kind enough to give the decorations to them, and they would utilize them the best they could.

"Okay. Okay. Caroline, calm down. I'll be right there. Don't move."

Elena straightened, abandoning the large sled-riding snowmen decoration on the table to look up at Stefan's tightly drawn features as he ended his call. "Stefan?" she asked, concerned. "What is it? What's wrong with Caroline?"

He let out a sigh. "She's having trouble controlling her cravings, and she's out of blood. I need to go. I'll be right back, okay?"

Elena felt a tremor of terror strike through her. "You're leaving?" she asked. "Wait—I'll go with you."

Stefan kissed her lightly. "You stay here. Keep unpacking. I'll be right back."

"But, Stefan, I—"

He pulled back and hesitated a moment. "I don't think it's a good idea to be around Caroline right now. Just wait for me. I'll be right back."

She resisted her urge to fight back and insist he take her. "Okay," she forced herself to say, nodding. "Hurry back."

"I will." He kissed her again and then, after disappearing down the hallway for a minute, was back at the living room entrance. She lifted a hand in goodbye, dread curling in her stomach as she realized, without a doubt, that she was alone in the house with Damon.

She went to the stereo and hooked up her iPod, which she had loaded with Christmas music just for the occasion, trying to drown out the silence and prevent Damon from hearing just how alone in the house she was. She turned back to the bags, trying to put him out of her mind as she pulled out a Christmas stocking, decorated with a large display of a house with a chimney blowing smoke amidst a snow-covered field. It was—

"Tacky," a voice from the entrance to the living room declared. Elena jumped, her heart skipping as she looked up at Damon. She forced down the feelings swelling up inside of her as she tried to maintain a neutral face around him. He looked the picture of casual, the bastard, that almost-smile ever present on his face. "Where's my brother?" he asked, frowning as he looked into the room.

Elena felt her features pinch as she continued to pull items out of the bag, not even seeing them. "He had to go out for a few minutes. What do you want, Damon?"

"Such hostility!" he mocked. "Come on, you can help me."

She paused, frowning up at him. "Help you what?" she asked warily.

He gave her a taunting look. "If I told you, there wouldn't be any fun in the surprise, would there?"

She scowled at him. "I'm not playing any of your games, Damon," she warned him coldly.

"Yes, yes, I know, I know. You hate me, you loathe me, you wish you never had to see me again. I get it." And yet despite his placating words, his hands were alarmingly behind her, lifting her from the floor, and despite her venomous attitude toward him, she was allowing him to direct her, even as she offered up slight protests.

"What's all this?" she asked, frowning at the stack of cardboard boxes in the hallway. They looked old—impossibly old—and covered with dust. There was faded writing on them, to label them, but she couldn't make out what it said.

"Don't talk, Elena, lift." Damon bent down and picked up a box to demonstrate, then pointed at her knees. "Lift. Up." He gestured to a box, then disappeared into the living room with one.

She hesitated, but curiosity won out, and she lifted one of the boxes, startled at how heavy it was. She carefully carried it into the living room, where Damon was already sweeping the decorations she had pulled out back into the bags. "Damon!" she protested, scowling. "What are you doing?"

"Getting rid of this crap," Damon declared, his face twisted in a grimace. He held up the stocking she had been looking at when he had come in. "Come on, Elena, really? Can you see this above our fireplace, waiting for Santa to come?" He moved to the mantle and held it up, and she had to admit, it looked ridiculous. He turned on her. "What's Santa going to bring us anyway? A couple of blood bags?" He tossed it into one of the bags and continued pushing them to the side, making room for the boxes.

She wanted to protest his dismissal of the Christmas decorations they'd been given, but what came out was, "I'm pretty sure _you're_ going to get coal."

It was the first friendly-ish thing she had said to him since before he had attacked Jeremy. Not attacked him. Killed him. She wasn't sure who was more surprised—her, or Damon. But he recovered quickly, pushing the last of the Cohan's decorations to the side of the room as he said, "I got coal every year. Stefan, though." He shot Elena a mischievous smile. "Stefan's never gotten coal. He was always a good little boy."

"One of you had to be," Elena returned, following him back out to the hallway.

"Ah yes, and my dear little brother bore the responsibility well," Damon agreed, sighing melodramatically as he placed a hand to his heart. He knelt down, lifted a box, and set it back down, grabbing another one before standing and handing it to her. She took it, surprised when he went back for the first box.

It wasn't until they were setting them down and she heard the "thump" that she realized it was because of the weight.

For some reason, it brought tears to her eyes, and she ducked her head, quickly reaching for another box to bring into the living room. She tried to push down the tears, and all the other emotions swirling up inside of her, as they finished carrying in the last of the boxes.

When they were finally done, Elena looked over at Damon, who was pouring himself a drink. "Can I look?" she asked, hesitant to go digging through the old boxes despite what they were brought out for.

Damon turned back, downing the contents of his glass in the same motion. He set the glass down and waved a hand at her. "Go ahead."

Her fingers almost trembled as she pulled apart the weak cardboard. She frowned slightly at the gray wrappings, then gave a start as she looked up at Damon, who was gazing into the box. "Damon, are these…?"

"Our mother's Christmas decorations," Damon finished. "Our father wouldn't let us use them after she died. They were boxed up and stuck in the basement, but one year, I convinced Stefan that it would be a great surprise for our father if we brought them out and decorated the house before the servants did. So we got up early one morning and had everything all set up and ready for when Father woke." He broke off abruptly, pouring himself another drink. He turned back, his eyebrows lifting briefly. "He was surprised, alright. And Stefan and I spent the next few weeks with giant gashes in our backs."

Elena felt her fingers freeze on the box. "Damon—"

"So." She jumped as Damon smacked the glass down on the table behind him, a forced look of happiness on his face. "If you insist on decorating the house, the least you could do is make it look the way it was intended to." He shot her a wink. "I promise not to whip you. I'll leave that to Stefan."

Elena swallowed hard, trying to keep the lump in her throat down. "Are you sure you want to use these?" she asked, her voice sounding hoarse in her ears. "I-if someone breaks them, Damon, you—"

"I'll be fine, Elena." The words were so definitive that she couldn't help but believe them—couldn't help but believe that he wouldn't attack or murder whoever stumbled into his precious keepsakes. She watched as he walked over to the box she had open and removed the paper from one of the shapes, revealing a dark blue crystal ball. He tossed it up in the air and caught it, holding it out to her to take.

She found herself meeting his eyes as she did, unable to look away from the mesmerizing gray. "Broken or shoved in a box in the basement—it's pretty much all the same to me, isn't it?"

She set the ornament back down into the box, the next words falling from her lips before she'd thought them through—before she thought about the consequences of her words, and the romantic image she had been dreaming of. "Stefan and I got a tree. It's outside. I don't want to unwrap any more of these until we have the tree set up so we can put them up right away, or else they might get ruined. Can you bring it in?"

He arched an eyebrow at her, almost as if he couldn't believe her words. She started to tell him to forget it, never mind, as her lovely afternoon of setting up Christmas decorations with Stefan faded in her mind.

And then she bit her tongue and raised her eyebrows expectantly at him.

He dragged himself to his feet, and to her disbelief, held out a hand to her. "What?" he asked, making a face at her. "Remember? The last time I set up decorations, I got lashed. If you think I'm doing this alone, you're way more psychotic than I thought you were."

She got up on her own, gaping at him. "Me? Psychotic? I can't believe you can even say that about someone else."

He flashed a smile at her. "We recognize our own kind." He led the way outside. "Besides, Elena, you hang out with vampires and put yourself in danger on a daily basis. There's got to be some sort of psychosis for that."

"_You're_ the most dangerous vampire I know," she shot back, going out the door as he held it open.

"Ah ah. Don't forget about Katherine. She's way worse than I am." He paused beside the house, where Stefan had propped up the eight-foot tall tree. "Oh, you've got to be kidding," he declared, shooting her a look of horror.

She smiled pleasantly in response. "In the house," she instructed.

He made a face, but dutifully wrapped his arms around it and lifted it, pulling it fluidly down from the house. "Grab the top," he ordered, not even sounding winded. "Or it'll break and won't _that_ just be tragic?"

She shot him a dirty look but did as he said, wrapping her arms around the top of it. Together they carefully maneuvered the large tree into the house and into the living room, setting it up against the bookcase while Elena retrieved the tree stand from one of the bags the Cohans had given them. When it was ready for the tree, Damon carefully carried it upright to the tree stand.

"A little to the right," Elena instructed, lying on her stomach on the floor as she watched the bottom of the tree fall off the stand. It moved slightly to the right. "A little more," she instructed. The tree slid off the back. "Now more front." The tree moved a few inches forward. "No, too far, too far! Back a little!"

"Are you kidding me?" Damon demanded, his voice muffled by the tree. "I'm eating pine here, Elena, and it's not exactly pleasant! Can you hurry it up?"

"I could if you would follow my directions!" she returned. "Back a little… Left a little… Okay, set it… No, wait, a little right. A little more. A little… There! Set it down!"

The tree came down with a thump. She quickly began screwing it down as Damon held it up straight, and then she crawled out from under the tree, shaking pine needles off of herself to survey their work. As Damon came out from behind the tree she gasped, her heart catching in her throat in horror.

His hands and arms were completely gouged open, and his face was littered with tiny scratches. Blood dripped onto his clothes as he stood there, looking down in irritation at his wounds.

"I'm starting to think Christmas really hates me," he told her, even as the wounds began to heal.

"Why didn't you say something?" she demanded, even as she silently berated herself. Of course Damon would be hurt… It was a tree. Stefan had been wearing long sleeves and a jacket, and he had used gloves. Damon was in short sleeves and completely exposed to the wood of the tree.

He gave her an annoyed look. "I'm going to go clean up," he declared. He turned and strode out of the room, leaving her alone to survey the large tree she and Stefan had carefully selected for its fullness and perfect shape.

And yet now all she could think was how stupid it was to bring a wooden tree into a vampire's house.

She sighed and knelt down to the boxes. She went to a different box, smiling at the length of gold beads, carefully wrapped up and tied together. There were large golden candlesticks that still gleamed in the light, preserved throughout the decades. And, to her disbelief, she found four red stockings, looking as if they had been lovingly sewn by hand.

"Look later, unwrap now," she heard Damon instruct impatiently, as he re-entered the room. He knelt in front of one of the unopened boxes and pulled out another length of beads and large red bows with long ribbon tails.

She hid her smile as she did as she was told, carefully unwrapping a dark red glass ball ornament. It was thin and delicate, so fragile that she felt if she held it for too long it would shatter in her hand. She stood, going to the tree, then held it out to Damon, who looked up at her. "Do you want to put up the first one?" she asked.

She expected him to roll his eyes and scoff at her, but instead he just smiled slightly and shook his head, reaching into her box for the blue ornament they had first unwrapped. She hesitated, but carefully placed the ornament's string around a branch, gently letting it go to hang on the branch.

She turned to look back at Damon, who was, to her astonishment, behind her with the blue ornament. Her breath caught in her throat as she looked up at him, but his gaze was on the tree and the ornament in his hand. He gingerly hung the ornament on the branch beside the red one, then looked down at her with the barest hint of a smile that made her heart ache.

Sorrow. Longing. Desperation.

Damon went back to the boxes, unwrapping another ornament and holding it out to her. She took it, her fingers carefully not meeting his as she did. And together, they carried on that way until the box was empty and the tree covered with sparkling balls.

"Ready for what's in box number four?" Damon asked, going to an unopened box and pulling the top apart. He unwrapped something inside and let out a sound of triumph. She stepped closer curiously.

"What's that?" she asked, kneeling down beside him.

Damon flashed her a grin so boyish her heart skipped. "These are the ones she made."

She gaped at him in disbelief. "Your mom made ornaments?" she asked, watching as he held up a star made of wire.

"Of course. In the early 1800s, most of our decorations were made. We didn't even call them Christmas trees, then." He held up the star to Elena, who took it carefully. "She and the servants would bake gingerbread cookies every year to go on the tree. And we'd string up cranberries from the field as garland." He waved his hands at the other boxes. "This stuff came later." He held up a little toy train ornament, a small, sad smile appearing on his face that she had never seen from him before.

She knew it was wrong, and she knew she was being selfish, but some deep, secret part of her was glad that she was getting to experience this with Damon—that she was the one by his side when he finally went through these boxes. That she got to see the look on his face as he unwrapped ornament after ornament, telling her something about it or about the history behind the symbol. Soon the box was empty, and she and Damon were standing on either side of the tree, passing the length of golden beads back and forth gingerly, carefully trying not to hit the ornaments.

Elena didn't think decorating could be so stressful. And yet, when she stood back, the vision of the tree before her and Damon was absolutely worth it. She turned to grin up at him, but he took her by the shoulders and steered her back to the boxes. "Don't admire yet," he warned. "You'll ruin the effect."

She couldn't help but laugh that Damon Salvatore, of all people, was worried about ruining the effect of Christmas decorations. She found herself grinning and singing along with the Christmas music as she set up the Christmas candles and Damon wrapped some fake leaf garland around the tables.

She and Damon worked together to hang up the looped beaded garland around the room, Damon climbing back up on the ladder to accentuate each peak with one of his mother's red bows. They placed decorations on the bookshelves and along the tables, Elena nestling some into the garland that Damon had laid out. And then, when it was all over and the boxes were completely empty, Elena stood at the entrance to the room with Damon, shoulder-to-shoulder, and found herself unable to stop smiling.

"It looks beautiful," Elena declared happily.

Damon held up a hand, his fingers gesturing together coaxingly. "Come on. Say it. Who was right about the decoration?"

She rolled her eyes, nudging his side with hers. "You were, Damon. The place looks perfect."

"Better than those mice," Damon declared with a snort.

She had to laugh. The place was too festive and beautiful not to laugh. She turned to him, smiling up at him. "Thank you. For everything today."

His sneer fell from his face, morphing into a smile tinged with a hint of sadness. "You're welcome." He turned, and with that, disappeared up the stairs.

And she had to clasp her hands together to keep herself from reaching out after him.

As she slowly re-entered the room, she headed to the tree, fingering the blue ornament he had hung—the only ornament he had put on the tree.

And then she sat on the couch to wait for Stefan to return.

* * *

***But that's not a very good Christmas present, is it? So how about this one?***

* * *

"Elena, are you sure you've got it?"

"I'm fine, Stefan, really." Elena hoisted the cardboard box higher up in her arms to demonstrate her point and tried to stifle her giggle at his arm-full of bags and the box he carried—a weight no normal man would be able to support, but her vampire boyfriend had no problem accommodating.

His concerned look was replaced with a smile as he turned and faced front again, continuing up the stairs to the front door of the Salvatore boarding house. At the entrance, Elena hesitated, almost as if she were a vampire herself, unable to enter without the obligatory invitation.

And then she steeled her nerves and plunged forward. The plan to decorate was in motion and nothing was going to stop it. She just had to gather her courage and step over the threshold. She could do this. She could definitely, absolutely do this.

Almost as soon as she stepped over the threshold and into the living room, she saw _him_, Damon, standing there with Stefan. He had an exasperated, snide, derogatory smirk on his face as he eyed the bags his younger brother set down.

Almost immediately, she was hit with the same inexplicable overwhelming feeling of sorrow that she had been feeling for weeks at the sight of the elder Salvatore brother. The sense that despite everything Damon had done, she had somehow wronged him. It was a heartbreaking anguish, and it tore at her every time she saw him.

Damon's head turned, his gray eyes locking onto her. She felt her breath catch in her throat as their eyes met, and she had to force herself to stay still—to not bolt out of the house. There was so much that had happened between them… "Elena," he greeted, in mock enthusiasm, his voice almost dripping with sarcasm. "May I take it that decorating our lovely abode for the holidays was your suggestion?"

"No, Damon, it was mine," Stefan said, turning back to him. Damon swung on him instantly. Stefan's face was calm, but insistent. "I thought it would be a nice gathering for everyone."

"Everyone?" Damon repeated. Elena watched him step closer to Stefan, looming over his younger brother. "And who exactly are we inviting to this shindig at our humble domicile, little brother?"

"Well," Stefan began, facing Damon head-on. Elena felt her heart swell at the sight. "Caroline. Elena. Alaric. Jenna. Jeremy. Bonnie. Rose." He paused. "I think that's all, but I might add some more guests." He mock-brightened. "I know. You could invite your friend, Sheriff Forbes."

Elena watched Damon's eyes darken as his face twisted into a sneered smile at Stefan. "I'll take it into consideration. Right after I contemplate vervain-tipped bamboo shoots sliding under my fingernails."

"Sounds painful," Stefan advised. Elena tried not to smile when Stefan patted Damon on the chest as he walked past him, coming over to join her at the living room entrance. "Let me get that for you," he said, taking the box from her.

She smiled warmly at him, thanking him, even as he turned and set it in the middle with the other bags.

"Where did all this stuff come from, anyway?" Damon asked, tugging on the edge of one of the bags to peer inside. His face contorted in disgust as he pulled out a tiny mouse with a Santa Claus outfit and held it up for Elena and Stefan to see. "Stefan, tell me you didn't blow our bank account on this tacky crap."

Stefan made a face at him. "Elena's neighbors were just going to throw it out—so we got it." He shot her a look and she smiled back brightly.

"For free?" Damon supplied hopefully.

"If you don't like it, Damon, you don't have to stay for the party," Elena tossed over at him, trying not to think about him ruining everything.

Damon was on her before she had barely finished the sentence. Stefan was there, too, just a foot away. Elena felt her heart in her throat as she found herself staring up into the dark gray eyes, only inches away from her own. She tried to exhale but found he occupied the space it would take her to do so, so she could only hold her breath and stare up at him, paralyzed. A mixture of anger, fear, and sorrow tormented her as she stared up into his familiar eyes.

"And miss the crazy shenanigans you kids are going to get into?" Damon asked finally, stepping away. "No, I think I'll stick around." He turned back and held out his hands. "After all, who else will be the entertainment?"

Elena didn't de-tense until he picked up his glass and tipped it at them, heading out of the room. And then she sagged, feeling all the weight leave her legs as she slowly tried to steady to her breath and slow the pounding in her heart.

Without warning, Stefan's cell phone went off. Elena's heart skipped as she looked up at him, watching him frown as he looked down at the name before taking the call. She forced herself to go to the bag Damon had been going through, her heart sinking as she got a better look at the decorations. Damon hadn't just found a tacky mouse. The rest of the mouse family was in there—Mrs. Claus mouse, a few elf mice, a toy shop for them to stand in front of, a little house to live in… It fit her elderly neighbors perfectly, but, as she eyed the Salvatore house in dismay, she knew without a doubt that it would never go with the rest of the house. In fact, it wouldn't even just clash. It would just look terrible.

She looked into the other bags, hoping for something less showy, but instead found large snow globes and more exorbitantly large displays.

She sighed inwardly. They would make it work. They certainly weren't the best decorations in the world, but somehow, they would make it work. The Cohans had been kind enough to give the decorations to them, and they would utilize them the best they could.

"Okay. Okay. Caroline, calm down. I'll be right there. Don't move."

Elena straightened, abandoning the large sled-riding snowmen decoration on the table to look up at Stefan's tightly drawn features as he ended his call. "Stefan?" she asked, her heart skipping. "What is it? What's wrong with Caroline?"

He let out a sigh. "She's having trouble controlling her cravings, and she's out of blood. I need to go. I'll be right back, okay?"

"You're leaving?" she repeated, hoping he couldn't hear how hollow her voice sounded. "Wait—I'll go with you."

Stefan kissed her lightly. "You stay here. Keep unpacking. I'll be right back."

"But, Stefan, I—"

He pulled back and hesitated a moment. "I don't think it's a good idea to be around Caroline right now. Just wait for me. I'll be right back."

She didn't know whether to laugh or cry. "Okay," she forced herself to say, nodding. "Hurry back."

"I will." He kissed her again and then, after disappearing down the hallway for a minute, was back at the living room entrance. She lifted a hand in goodbye, her breath speeding up as she realized, without a doubt, that she was alone in the house with Damon.

She went to the stereo and hooked up her iPod, which she had loaded with Christmas music just for the occasion, trying to drown out the pounding of her heart in her ears. She turned back to the bags, listening intently for Damon as she pulled out a Christmas stocking, decorated with a large display of a house with a chimney blowing smoke amidst a snow-covered field. It was—

"Tacky," a voice from the entrance to the living room declared. Elena jumped, her heart skipping as she looked up at Damon. She forced down the feelings swelling up inside of her as she tried to maintain a neutral face around him. He looked the picture of casual, the bastard, that almost-smile ever present on his face. "Where's my brother?" he asked, frowning as he looked into the room.

Elena felt her features pinch as she continued to pull items out of the bag, not even seeing them. "He had to go out for a few minutes. What do you want, Damon?"

"Such hostility!" he mocked. "Come on, you can help me."

She paused, frowning up at him. "Help you what?" she asked warily.

He gave her a taunting look. "If I told you, there wouldn't be any fun in the surprise, would there?"

She scowled. "I'm not playing any of your games, Damon," she warned him coldly.

"Yes, yes, I know, I know. You hate me, you loathe me, you wish you never had to see me again. I get it." And yet despite his placating words, his hands were alarmingly behind her, lifting her from the floor. And despite her venomous protests, she was allowing him to direct her.

"What's all this?" she asked, frowning at the stack of cardboard boxes in the hallway. They looked old—impossibly old—and covered with dust. There was faded writing on them, to label them, but she couldn't make out what it said.

"Don't talk, Elena, lift." Damon bent down and picked up a box to demonstrate, then pointed at her knees. "Lift. Up." He gestured to a box, then disappeared into the living room with one.

She hesitated, but curiosity won out, and she lifted one of the boxes, startled at how heavy it was. She carefully carried it into the living room, where Damon was already sweeping the decorations she had pulled out back into the bags. "Damon!" she protested, scowling. "What are you doing?"

"Getting rid of this crap," Damon declared, his face twisted in a grimace. He held up the stocking she had been looking at when he had come in. "Come on, Elena, really? Can you see this above our fireplace, waiting for Santa to come?" He moved to the mantle and held it up, and she had to admit, it looked ridiculous. He turned on her. "What's Santa going to bring us anyway? A couple of blood bags?" He tossed it into one of the bags and continued pushing them to the side, making room for the boxes.

She wanted to protest his dismissal of the Christmas decorations they'd been given, but what came out was, "I'm pretty sure _you're_ going to get coal."

It was the first friendly-ish thing she had said to him since before he had attacked Jeremy. Not attacked him. Killed him. Damon looked surprised, but he recovered quickly, pushing the last of the Cohan's decorations to the side of the room as he said, "I got coal every year. Stefan, though." He shot Elena a mischievous smile. "Stefan's never gotten coal. He was always a good little boy."

"One of you had to be," Elena returned, following him back out to the hallway.

"Ah yes, and my dear little brother bore the responsibility well," Damon agreed, sighing melodramatically as he placed a hand to his heart. He knelt down, lifted a box, and set it back down, grabbing another one before standing and handing it to her. She took it, surprised when he went back for the first box.

It wasn't until they were setting them down and she heard the "thump" that she realized it was because of the weight.

For some reason, it brought tears to her eyes, and she ducked her head, quickly reaching for another box to bring into the living room. She tried to push down the tears, and all the other emotions swirling up inside of her, as they finished carrying in the last of the boxes.

When they were finally done, Elena looked over at Damon, who was pouring himself a drink. "Can I look?" she asked, hesitant to go digging through the old boxes despite what they were brought out for.

Damon turned back, downing the contents of his glass in the same motion. He set the glass down and waved a hand at her. "Go ahead."

Her fingers almost trembled as she pulled apart the weak cardboard. She frowned slightly at the gray wrappings, then gave a start as she looked up at Damon, who was gazing into the box. "Damon, are these…?"

"Our mother's Christmas decorations," Damon finished. "Our father wouldn't let us use them after she died. They were boxed up and stuck in the basement, but one year, I convinced Stefan that it would be a great surprise for our father if we brought them out and decorated the house before the servants did. So we got up early one morning and had everything all set up and ready for when Father woke." He broke off abruptly, pouring himself another drink. He turned back, his eyebrows lifting briefly. "He was surprised, alright. And Stefan and I spent the next few weeks with giant gashes in our backs."

Elena felt her fingers freeze on the box. "Damon—"

"So." She jumped as Damon smacked the glass down on the table behind him, a forced look of happiness on his face. "If you insist on decorating the house, the least you could do is make it look the way it was intended to." He shot her a wink. "I promise not to whip you. I'll leave that to Stefan."

Elena swallowed hard, trying to keep the lump in her throat down. "Are you sure you want to use these?" she asked, her voice sounding hoarse in her ears. "I-if someone breaks them, Damon, you—"

"I'll be fine, Elena." The words were so definitive that she couldn't help but believe them—couldn't help but believe that he wouldn't attack or murder whoever stumbled into his precious keepsakes. She watched as he walked over to the box she had open and removed the paper from one of the shapes, revealing a dark blue crystal ball. He tossed it up in the air and caught it, holding it out to her to take.

She found herself meeting his eyes as she did, unable to look away from the mesmerizing gray. "Broken or shoved in a box in the basement—it's pretty much all the same to me, isn't it?"

She set the ornament back down into the box and looked up at Damon, hoping she sounded more casual than she felt. "Stefan and I got a tree. It's outside. I don't want to unwrap any more of these until we have the tree set up so we can put them up right away, or else they might get ruined. Can you bring it in?"

He arched an eyebrow at her, almost as if he couldn't believe her words. She held his gaze with what she prayed was an expectant, easy-going, carefree look, even though her heart was pounding.

He dragged himself to his feet, and to her surprise, held out a hand to her. "What?" he asked, making a face at her. "Remember? The last time I set up decorations, I got lashed. If you think I'm doing this alone, you're way more psychotic than I thought you were."

She hesitated, but placed her hand in his, allowing him to pull her up as if she weighed nothing. "Me? Psychotic? I can't believe you can even say that about someone else."

He flashed a smile at her. "We recognize our own kind." He led the way outside. "Besides, Elena, you hang out with vampires and put yourself in danger on a daily basis. There's got to be some sort of psychosis for that."

"_You're_ the most dangerous vampire I know," she shot back, going out the door as he held it open.

"Ah ah. Don't forget about Katherine. She's way worse than I am." He paused beside the house, where Stefan had propped up the eight-foot tall tree. "Oh, you've got to be kidding," he declared, shooting her a look of horror.

She smiled pleasantly in response. "In the house," she instructed.

He made a face, but dutifully wrapped his arms around it and lifted it, pulling it fluidly down from the house. "Grab the top," he ordered, not even sounding winded. "Or it'll break and won't _that_ just be tragic?"

She made a face at him but did as she was told, wrapping her arms around the top of it. Together they carefully maneuvered the large tree into the house and into the living room, setting it up against the bookcase while Elena retrieved the tree stand from one of the bags the Cohans had given them. When it was ready for the tree, Damon carefully carried it upright to the tree stand.

"A little to the right," Elena instructed, lying on her stomach on the floor as she watched the bottom of the tree fall off the stand. It moved slightly to the right. "A little more," she instructed. The tree slid off the back. "Now more front." The tree moved a few inches forward. "No, too far, too far! Back a little!"

"Are you kidding me?" Damon demanded, his voice muffled by the tree. "I'm eating pine here, Elena, and it's not exactly pleasant! Can you hurry it up?"

"I could if you would follow my directions!" she returned. "Back a little… Left a little… Okay, set it… No, wait, a little right. A little more. A little… There! Set it down!"

The tree came down with a thump. She quickly began screwing it down as Damon held it up straight, and then she crawled out from under the tree, shaking pine needles off of herself to survey their work. As Damon came out from behind the tree she gasped, her heart catching in her throat in horror.

His hands and arms were completely gouged open, and his face was littered with tiny scratches. Blood dripped onto his clothes as he stood there, looking down in irritation at his wounds.

"I'm starting to think Christmas really hates me," he told her, even as the wounds began to heal.

"Why didn't you say something?" she demanded, even as she silently berated herself. Of course Damon would be hurt… It was a tree. Stefan had been wearing long sleeves and a jacket, and he had used gloves. Damon was in short sleeves and completely exposed to the wood of the tree.

He gave her an annoyed look. "I'm going to go clean up," he declared. He turned and strode out of the room, leaving her alone to survey the large tree she and Stefan had carefully selected for its fullness and perfect shape.

And yet now all she could think was how stupid it was to bring a wooden tree into a vampire's house.

She sighed and knelt down to the boxes. She went to a different box, smiling at the length of gold beads, carefully wrapped up and tied together. There were large golden candlesticks that still gleamed in the light, preserved throughout the decades. And, to her disbelief, she found four red stockings, looking as if they had been lovingly sewn by hand.

"Look later, unwrap now," she heard Damon instruct impatiently, as he re-entered the room. He knelt in front of one of the unopened boxes and pulled out another length of beads and large red bows with long ribbon tails.

She hid her smile as she did as she was told, carefully unwrapping a dark red glass ball ornament. It was thin and delicate, so fragile that she felt if she held it for too long it would shatter in her hand. She stood, going to the tree, then held it out to Damon, who looked up at her. "Do you want to put up the first one?" she asked.

She expected him to roll his eyes and scoff at her, but instead he just smiled slightly and shook his head, reaching into her box for the blue ornament they had first unwrapped. She hesitated, but carefully placed the ornament's string around a branch, gently letting it go to hang on the branch.

She turned to look back at Damon, who was, to her astonishment, behind her with the blue ornament. Her breath caught in her throat as she looked up at him, but his gaze was on the tree and the ornament in his hand. He gingerly hung the ornament on the branch beside the red one, then looked down at her with the barest hint of a smile that made her heart ache.

Sorrow. Longing. Desperation.

Damon went back to the boxes, unwrapping another ornament and holding it out to her. She took it, her fingers brushing against his in a light touch that reeked of forbiddeness. She pulled her fingers away quickly, trying to calm her racing heart. Together, they carried on that way until the box was empty and the tree covered with sparkling balls.

"Ready for what's in box number four?" Damon asked, going to an unopened box and pulling the top apart. He unwrapped something inside and let out a sound of triumph. She stepped closer curiously.

"What's that?" she asked, kneeling down beside him.

Damon flashed her a grin so boyish her heart skipped. "These are the ones she made."

She gaped at him in disbelief. "Your mom made ornaments?" she asked, watching as he held up a star made of wire.

"Of course. In the early 1800s, most of our decorations were made. We didn't even call them Christmas trees, then." He held up the star to Elena, who took it carefully. "She and the servants would bake gingerbread cookies every year to go on the tree. And we'd string up cranberries from the field as garland." He waved his hands at the other boxes. "This stuff came later." He held up a little toy train ornament, a small, sad smile appearing on his face that she had never seen from him before.

She knew it was wrong, and she knew she was being selfish, but some deep, secret part of her was glad that she was getting to experience this with Damon—that she was the one by his side when he finally went through these boxes. That she got to see the look on his face as he unwrapped ornament after ornament, telling her something about it or about the history behind the symbol. Soon the box was empty, and she and Damon were standing on either side of the tree, passing the length of golden beads back and forth gingerly, carefully trying not to hit the ornaments.

Elena didn't think decorating could be so stressful. And yet, when she stood back, the vision of the tree before her and Damon was absolutely worth it. She turned to grin up at him, but he took her by the shoulders and steered her back to the boxes. "Don't admire yet," he warned. "You'll ruin the effect."

She couldn't help but laugh that Damon Salvatore, of all people, was worried about ruining the effect of Christmas decorations. She found herself grinning and singing along with the Christmas music as she set up the Christmas candles and Damon wrapped some fake leaf garland around the tables.

She and Damon worked together to hang up the looped beaded garland around the room, Damon climbing back up on the ladder to accentuate each peak with one of his mother's red bows. They placed decorations on the bookshelves and along the tables, Elena nestling some into the garland that Damon had laid out. And then, when it was all over and the boxes were completely empty, Elena stood at the entrance to the room with Damon, shoulder-to-shoulder, and found herself unable to stop smiling.

"It looks beautiful," Elena declared happily.

Damon held up a hand, his fingers gesturing together coaxingly. "Come on. Say it. Who was right about the decoration?"

She rolled her eyes, nudging his side with hers. "You were, Damon. The place looks perfect."

"Better than those mice," Damon declared with a snort.

She had to laugh. The place was too festive and beautiful not to laugh. She turned to him, smiling up at him. "Thank you. For everything today."

His sneer fell from his face, morphing into a smile tinged with a hint of sadness. "You're welcome." He turned, and with that, disappeared up the stairs.

And she had to clasp her hands together to keep herself from reaching out after him.

As she slowly re-entered the room, she headed to the tree, fingering the blue ornament he had hung—the only ornament he had put on the tree.

And then she sighed, pulled out her cell phone, and dialed a number. She slowly turned and sat on the couch, studying the tree as she waited for the other line to pick up.

"Caroline," she greeted. "Thanks for your help. It's okay, now."

"Mission accomplished?" Caroline asked, her voice deliberately quiet to keep Stefan from overhearing her. "Did you get a chance to talk to him?"

Elena studied the tree, then cast a long look back at the hallway where Damon had disappeared, her heart aching. "Mission accomplished."


End file.
